


comfortable

by Edgebug



Category: Borderlands
Genre: AU: Handsome Jack Is Not As Horrible, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Jack's casual murder tendencies mentioned but not seen, M/M, Robots, light existential horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edgebug/pseuds/Edgebug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rhys and Handsome Jack get creative.</p><p>  <i>"Okay, this fucking sucks," Jack shouts, almost blowing out the little CL4P-TP's speakers. He tries to cross his arms and can't; they're too far apart and not long enough. "Are you laughing at me? Rhys! Are you fucking--"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	comfortable

**Author's Note:**

> idk honestly this just kind of happened

"Okay, this fucking sucks," Jack shouts, almost blowing out the little CL4P-TP's speakers. He tries to cross his arms and can't; they're too far apart and not long enough. "Are you laughing at me? _Rhys!_ Are you _fucking_ \--"

"I'm just--you're kinda cute like this," Rhys says, laying a hand on the CL4P-TP's smooth surface.

Jack screeches quietly and rolls backward away from Rhys. "Kinda nice to be able to move around but not worth being so goddamn short! And having a wheel instead of legs just--"

Jack takes a second to zoom around his office at top Claptrap speed, his motors buzzing obnoxiously as he goes. "Okay, granted, you're super low to the ground and so you kinda feel like you're going a billion miles an hour," he says once he does a few loops around the office. "I suddenly understand why these little bastards zip around so much, it's actually kinda fun--but I want my legs back!" He skids to a stop in front of Rhys, staring up at him with that single blue optic.  

"I may have another idea," Rhys says. "Give me one second."

Jack abandons the little Claptrap unit the second Rhys clicks the ID drive into its port. Within moments Rhys has a Loader Bot plodding obediently through the office doors, and Rhys steps over and plugs the ID drive into it instead.

A few seconds of silence go by and then the Loader shifts into action, giving an obscene moan and stretching out languidly. "Oh, yeah," Jack groans through the Loader's speakers, "that's the shit." The Loader's arms raise over its head, its back arches, its legs stretch.

"Happy now?"

"This is an improvement, definitely," Jack says, taking a few plodding steps. "Jesus. This thing is like a semi truck where the Claptrap was a roller skate."

"I bet. Try not to accidentally wreck anything."

"You got it, baby. Actually..."

Jack-the-Loader stomps over toward Rhys. "Oh no," Rhys says as Jack reaches out for him. "Oh no, don't you--"

Too late. He's being picked up like a little toy and held up in front of Jack's glowing red optic.

"You're so tiny like this," Jack says, "it's cute! I could just carry you around." He plops Rhys down on his shoulder. "Hey, wanna go run around the Hub? Stretch the ol' gams, freak out some flunkies? I sure as hell want to!"

"Run? Jack--!"

Jack's already out the door with Rhys holding on for dear life. 

-

"Okay, this sucks too," Jack says once he gets sick of running and jumping and doing general Loader things, "can't sit in movie theaters and can't do anything with any subtlety at all. And," he adds, optic flickering, "can't make out with you."

"Well," Rhys says slowly. "Why don't we just _make_ you something more suitable? I know the skeleton thing didn't work out but I don't see why we couldn't just build an android from scratch."

"An android," Jack says flatly. "Like--straight up? An actual robot? Human sized, all the degrees of freedom?"

"Is that all you're worried about? Not concerned about how it's gonna look?"

"Rhysie, baby, look at me. Take a good hard look." Jack looms over him. Not deliberately, just because he's so tall like this. "I'm wearing a fucking Loader Bot, kiddo. I just want something about six feet tall and not heavier than a metric ton."

"I think we can do a little better than that."

"Kitten. Sweetie. The reason I wanted to do the skeleton thing is because making an _android?_ Goddamn hard. Nobody's ever done it before. Not--not really well, anyway." His nose wrinkles. "I mean, not any better than wearing a rotting meat suit around a metal skeleton. Which, you know. I also decided against. Anyway. Basically impossible."

"Has being basically impossible ever stopped Hyperion?"

"Look. I'm just saying, I'm not gonna be shocked if it's not perfect."

"Give me a _little_ credit, Jack," Rhys says, and pats Jack's broad, Loader chest.

 -

Jack's skeleton is the easy part. It takes a week to mill the strong alloy into shape, get the pieces together. Rhys has hired the best roboticists money can buy, and so far Jack's skeleton looks amazing, hanging there in the workshop, silver and gleaming.

"Can I get in it yet?" Jack whines, a blue hologram at the corner of his vision, and Rhys shakes his head.

"There's no computers in it yet, man. Nothing for you to load into."

"Oh, but it's gorgeous," Jack sighs, stepping toward it and reaching out an incorporeal hand, letting his fingers skim through the skeleton's ribs. "Doesn't look anything like the old one." 

"The old one was designed to be able to move on its own. This is just a skeleton, tendons and muscles are what's gonna make it move." Rhys grins. "My robotics guys say it's gonna be super strong." 

"Hell yeah," Jack breathes. "My bones. Those are my _bones_."

-

They layer in his musculature next, tendons, joints. Rhys and Jack are in the lab after hours again, just staring at it.

"Can I try it on now?" Jack wheedles, and Rhys shakes his head again.

"You could, but you wouldn't be able to feel or see or hear anything, so what's the point?"

"Oh, right. No sensors yet. Ugh," Jack groans. "I'm lookin' good so far though."

They put all Jack's computing power in his chest, armored by his ribcage. It's a smart design. 

Jack is bulletproof. 

-

 

The robot has two eyes now and two false lungs to push air past synthetic vocal cords that haven't been installed yet. There is sensor netting applied to its entire form, capable of sensing touch, pressure, temperature.

"Make sure they make my dick huge, Rhysie," Jack instructs, and Rhys groans.

"They've got pants on the robot every time I go in now, so presumably they've done _something_ downstairs."

"Just make sure it's gigantic," Jack says, and Rhys can't hold back a fond smile.

-

The easy part, the engineers tell Rhys, is over. The android can move and it's got all its sensors in place, including force-feedback in every single tiny servo. The problem now is making it look human; giving it a face and the ability to make expressions, giving it it's vocal cords, figuring out how to create skin and teeth and hair in such a way to satisfy Jack's craving for realism.

The robot now looks like a mechanical human without skin or a face, and it's freaky, but it's cool. Two cameras are set in his head, but no features surround it.

The roboticists say it's time for Jack to take it on a test drive. "To make sure everything works so far. At this stage it's easy to make changes to the machinery--later, not so easy." So now Rhys and the roboticists are waiting, anxious, as Jack loads himself into the robot's system and promptly takes for _ever_ to boot up.

Rhys is just about to start panicking in earnest when the android jolts into life, motors whirring.

"Kiddo," Rhys hears, Jack's voice rough through the android's onboard speaker. "This'll work."

Rhys grins as the robot--Jack--sits up on the work table, scanning the room and stretching his legs out, pointing his toes. "You look amazing," Rhys says, stepping closer.

"I look like a horror movie, kitten, and I'm okay with it. Shit, babe, I--I _feel_. I feel!" Shakily Jack reaches toward Rhys and Rhys unflinchingly takes his hand, laces their fingers together. Jack's face is nonexistent but Rhys can feel the shudder run through him. He places his other hand at the side of Jack's head, where his cheek should be, and Jack leans in to the touch; his cameras shutter half-closed, his form seems to sigh.

"You look amazing," Rhys says again, firmly, "Honest."

Jack has no face, no mouth save for his mechanical jaw, no lips with which to smile, no eyebrows to quirk; still, when he wraps his new arms around Rhys and holds him tight, it seems like he's smiling anyway.

-

There's samples of synthetic skin on Rhys's desk within the week.

"Hey, weird question," Rhys asks as Jack closely examines the samples. Jack looks up at him across the desk, holographic blue form in a constant state of wavering, as usual.

"Hit me, pumpkin." 

"Do you want your mask?"

Jack blinks.

"Or do you want it to look like you before you got your scar? I only ask because--"

"No, no. I just hadn't thought of it," Jack says, thoughtfully. "I mean--the mask is--kinda my brand, you know? I didn't--" Jack pauses. "I'm gonna have to have data ports, right?"

"And a charging port, yeah, and god knows what else."

"Then how about we put those on my head and have the mask cover them?"

"Yeah, why not." Rhys reaches out and touches the different skin samples. "I think this one's best. Feels the most realistic to me." It's a complex self-healing polymer, able to conduct electricity too so his sensor netting beneath it will be entirely uninhibited. "Let's get your birthday suit on, huh?" 

-

"Holy fuck," Jack breathes when he sees the finished robot, and Rhys is in firm agreement.

It looks like a human being. It looks like _Jack_ , lying there on the work table, dead asleep. Every detail is there; the roboticists and artists and technicians have outdone themselves. His mask isn't on; two ports sit just underneath the mask's left hinge, where they'll be neatly covered.

"Well, there it is," Rhys says with a grin. "Wanna do a smoke test? These folks--" he motions to the techies, hovering nervously nearby, "--really wanna see you in action."

"Load me up, babe! C'mon, make it march!" 

Rhys obeys, slides an ID drive into his own temple port. It only takes a moment for Jack to load himself onto it, and Rhys moves over to the android lying prone on the table. "Drumroll, please," he says, and plugs the drive into the android's new data port.

As before, it takes approximately a million years for Jack to boot up; after an eternity the android gasps into life and lurches into a sitting position. 

Jack's eyes open, blink a few times, fix on Rhys. Rhys gives a small, relieved laugh. "How's it fit?"

Jack takes a moment, opens his mouth and finds he can't quite speak. He blinks, confused, then jerkily fixes his gaze on the head technician.

"Ah, it--it may take you a moment to learn to navigate your synthetic vocal cords," she says, "may I suggest calibrating your servos, sir? Stretching everything out?"

Jack gives a nod and then proceeds to carefully move every which way he can imagine, arms curling, legs bending, spine arching and twisting. He runs through every facial expression he can, slowly, like he's remembering how to make each one. Finally Rhys watches as he takes deep breaths with his new false lungs, and then--

"Hey, cupcake," comes the raspy tone, and it's unmistakably Jack, thought he hasn't quite got the hang of speaking yet, "how do I look?"

His mismatched glassy acrylic eyes look exactly perfect. His hair is rooted impeccably, his facial expressions are spot-on. Even his teeth are perfect replicas of what they once were. Rhys reaches out, cups Jack's jaw in both hands; his skin is warm to the touch, soft, _human_ , and Rhys can feel him sigh and lean into it. "You look amazing," Rhys says, and Jack grins. 

-

It takes Jack a few minutes to learn to walk, and he still loops an arm through Rhys's for support just in case as they make their way back up to their penthouse. Jack's steps are unsure, though Rhys is certain he'll get his cocky swagger back in absolutely no time at all. "So how does it feel?" he asks, pressing the elevator button for their floor.

"Feels fucking amazing," Jack says, "it--it's incredible, Rhysie. God, can't wait to see myself in a mirror," he groans, "I might look like some Uncanny Valley disaster."

"You look perfect."

"You're blinded by love, cupcake," Jack replies, unconvinced. "You didn't care when I didn't even have _skin_."

"I love you no matter what you look like, Jack, but--really. You look awesome."

"You know, I love hearin' that, but the more you say it the more I'm sure I look like a zombie or some shit. Not that I care, because this feels so fucking good." Jack groans and rolls his shoulders smoothly, eyes closing.

"C'mon, you hedonist," Rhys says affectionately, leading Jack into their suite when the elevator doors open. Instantly Jack lurches his way into the bathroom to see himself in the full length mirror there.

"Wow," he says quietly, "you weren't kidding, I look--wow." He pokes at his own face, leans in to stare at his own eyes, pulls a bunch of facial expressions, examines himself closely. "I look human. I--I really look like I'm human." 

"You are human," Rhys says, and Jack shoots him an unreadable look.

"I'm a robot, Rhys. I'm not even a cyborg, or a human brain piloting a robot. I'm a full-on AI with a robot body now. I'm--I ain't ever gonna be human again." He pauses, sadness passing over his face. "Uh, technically speaking, I never was. I'm a _copy_ of one." The melancholy melts away instantly. "But with a body like this, who gives a shit, am I right?!" Jack positively giggles, reaches up to take his mask off. He hands it to Rhys before looking back into the mirror and running his fingertips over his face where his scar used to be.

"Christ," he mumbles, "s'weird. Never thought I'd see my face without that scar on it."

"Do you miss it?"

Jack hesitates. "It kinda became a part of me, kiddo," he says, "not sure I _miss_ it so much as I just got _used_ to it." The pads of his fingers linger over his new data and charging ports, rectangular plugs at his temple and jawline, right under his mask.

"Yeah, you even projected yourself with it on when you were in my head." Rhys suddenly realizes why Jack wanted the mask on his new body in the first place; it's a comfort thing, it's about having some familiarity. The mask is a security blanket now, sure as anything.

"I really am handsome," Jack says after a moment with a cocky grin. "You--you did a good job, kiddo."

Rhys smiles back. "My roboticists did. I didn't have much to do with it."

"Bullshit, you ran the whole project. Can't hide from me, I live in your--" Jack pauses. " _Used to_ live in your brain." Jack shakes himself and scoops Rhys into his arms--and oh, that feels good, Jack strong and warm and real, holding him close. "You made this happen for me, kitten," he murmurs, and this close Rhys can see the mechanical apertures of his irises, blue and green and beautifully engineered, not unlike Rhys's own ECHOeye. "I'm glad I didn't kill you, y'know that? Don't say sappy shit like that often. I mean it, kiddo."

"'I'm glad I didn't kill you' is sappy? I'd hate to hear something _not_ sappy."

"C'mon, Rhysie. Don't make me say something _really_ gross, like _thank you_ or _this is the best thing anyone's ever done for me._ I'd have to wash my mouth out with bleach."

"Yeah, well, don't feel too bad, this body's just as much for me as it is for you," Rhys says playfully as he winds his arms around Jack's neck. "Now I don't have to deal with you in my head anymore."

"You know you loved it," Jack says airily, and kisses him. It's hesitant, like Jack's re-learning how to do this. His mouth is soft and he tastes like metal and plastic and, actually, it's perfect.

It occurs to Rhys that this is their first kiss, ever. It doesn't feel like it; they've had no lack of closeness with Jack in his head, but no actual, physical contact between them.

(Though Jack taking control and running Rhys's metal fingertips over his lips, lingering, slow, felt just as intimate as any kiss Rhys had ever experienced; trust Jack to find creative solutions to everything.)

-

Jack can heat himself up at will, which is cool. The heat in their penthouse goes out one night and rather than call up a repair guy at two in the morning, Jack just whirrs his motors a little harder, turns his heating coils up a little further. He's delightfully warm and Rhys sleeps soundly all night.

(He can also do the opposite; get just cool enough so it's pleasant, so that cuddling against him is like turning your pillow over to the cool side.)

"Can I eat?" Jack says abruptly one morning. Rhys finishes with his yawn before he speaks.

"Um, you can taste," he says.

"I know that," Jack says, "figured that out on day one, thanks." He watches Rhys attack his own cornflakes with a spoon. "But can I eat? Like, actually eat?"

"Not very much. Little amounts."

A beat. "Do I have to shit, too?"

"No, ew, who'd make a robot that has to take dumps, Jack? You incinerate whatever you eat. And maybe burn it for additional fuel? I don't know."

"And then, what, barf up little ash pellets like an owl?"

Rhys groans, burying his face in his hands. "I have no idea! Ask your mechanic!"

"I hope it's little ash pellets, that'd be _so_ gross," Jack says with an excited, mischievous grin, "oh man, I gotta eat some stuff as soon as possible."

-

Rhys walks in to their bedroom one evening and finds Jack's body plugged in but lifeless; his mask is on the side table so his power cord can plug in, and his status light at the corner of his left eye is pulsing red; he's charging, and and on top of that, he's turned off.

"Jack?" Rhys says quietly, approaching Jack's body. "You in there, or--"

"Hey, Rhysie," Jack's voice comes through a nearby wall speaker. "My body's fine, I just figured I'd take a break and chill in Helios for a little bit." He projects himself up onto their large windows, blue and pixelated.

Rhys's brow furrows; he settles into the bed. "Body not working out for you?"

"Rhysie--no, it works great! I love it," Jack says, emphatically. "It's perfect. Just, you know, it's--different, being a space station. Nice to go back to sometimes. And waaay less boring than lying around waiting for my body to charge up," he adds. "But now that you're here..."

The light on Jack's temple turns blue and he reaches out toward Rhys, scooping him into his arms and dragging him down on top of him. Rhys falls on top of Jack and they end up a giggling heap of limbs. "Careful! You'll tug out your cord!" Rhys manages between laughs, and Jack just stretches up to shower Rhys's neck in kisses.

"See?" Jack says triumphantly, "wouldn't be able to do this without a body!"

Jack's pausing, looking up at Rhys with mischief on his face.

"Um... do what? Be annoying and give me kisses?" 

"Nope. This!" Jack suddenly digs his fingers lightly into Rhys's tummy and crows in triumph when Rhys screeches and laughs again, automatically curling to protect his stomach. 

-

"R-Rhys? Sir?"

Rhys looks up from his ECHO palmtop display and meets the eyes of the terrified intern his secretary just sent in. "Hey, buddy," Rhys says, "you look like you just saw a ghost, sit down, everything's okay."

It had better be okay. No intern is this nervous around Rhys unless a certain someone is involved.

The intern sits across from Rhys's desk, nervously fidgeting. "Thank you, sir," she squeaks. "Um--I have a, a question. About Handsome Jack."

Of fucking course. Rhys groans and scrubs a hand over his face. "What's he done this time."

"Um--does--does Handsome Jack have laser eyes, sir?"

"What? No," Rhys says firmly. "No, he absolutely does not."

The intern visibly relaxes, letting out a long breath. "Oh, good. I mean, I know he's super strong now and can strangle me with one hand but, he could do that before, haha," she says with a squeaky little half-laugh, "so it was just the, the laser eyes thing that I wasn't, um, sure about. Sir."

"Yes, no laser eyes, I promise, so don't panic," Rhys says. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, sir, that's all. Thank you, Rhys, sir." 

-

"You've got to stop scaring the interns, Jack."

Jack's lying out on their bed, playing some game or other on his ECHO. "I don't scare interns," he says, utter innocence in his voice.

"I got six of them in my office between yesterday and today asking me if it's true that you can zap people with your laser eyes."

"Now why would they think I can do that?"

"And three more asking if you can really disintegrate people just by touching them."

"Where do they get all these crazy ideas? Kids these days, am I right, cupcake?" 

"You told them, Jack."

"I did not."

Rhys brings up some surveillance footage on his ECHO palm display. Jack's looming over a cowering intern and shoving his index finger into their face. _"--And I can vaporize you with one poke from this finger, short stack!"_ the Jack on the footage says. _"One poke and poof, they'll be mailing you back to your parents as a soot smudge on a postcard!"_

Rhys closes the palm display and looks at Jack.

"Okay, so I totally did that," Jack says, "but c'mon, Rhysie, what's the harm in it? Can't I have _any_ fun?!"

"Morale has gone down almost 20 percent among the intern population, Jack. When morale goes down so does productivity."

"I'm just saying it's not reasonable to expect me not to fuck with a few flunkies if they end up alone with me in an elevator," Jack says flatly. "I'm already pretty fuckin' declawed here, Rhysie, you gonna rip out my fangs too?"

"Listen, let's compromise, okay? You stop openly threatening them and I'll start being unable to confirm or deny that you have robot superpowers."

Jack rolls the idea around. "So, subtlety," he says, "I can roll with that. On the condition that if I'm in an elevator alone with one of them it's a free for all."

"Only," Rhys sighs, "if they willingly get into the elevator with you."

Jack grins. "Awesome."

"So no _cornering_ one of them in the elevator! You have to be in there first and they have to get in it with you. Okay?"

"I got it, I got it."

-

The thing is, Jack _has_ been pretty friendly since he and Rhys took dual ownership of Hyperion. Friendly by Jack standards, anyway. Not having a body made it pretty easy to not kill people, but he's even been easygoing now that he has a corporeal form again. ("I've got a sugar daddy now, I can relax and look pretty," he said by way of explanation once.)

The thing is, there's still some Grade-A Hyperion assholes to deal with.

It's the easiest option to let Jack deal with them--the ones who enjoy torturing others, the ones who took over Henderson's kitten fighting ring, the ones trying to hurt others. Jack also takes control of the situation when someone tries to steal secrets or plan assassination attempts.

As it turns out, Jack still knows how to strangle people to death. And, as it turns out, he still likes it just as much.

Jack says Rhys has him declawed, but Rhys knows it's more that he has a tiger as a house cat; it may be lying on its back in front of the fireplace now, but make no mistake, if it decided to maul him to death, it could with no resistance. 

-

Rhys is at his smaller work desk in their penthouse, finishing up some paperwork from a recent licensing deal with Maliwan. Jack's sitting on the couch in Rhys's little office, sprawled out and periodically shifting as he plays some game on his ECHO.

Rhys is typing out an email to a lawyer when Jack groans irritatedly and shifts in his seat. "Something wrong?" Rhys asks.

"No," Jack says. "You gonna be done with that paperwork anytime soon?"

"I don't know, Jack. It's a shitstorm of bureaucracy," Rhys sighs. "Just give me some time, I'll get it taken care of."

Jack grunts in response. A pause before he completely changes position, sitting up. A moment later he moves again, lying back down.

"Jack," Rhys says, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Jack snaps. A second later his body goes limp with a soft beep, red light flashing to show it's off; a shock of worry lances through Rhys but then Jack's voice grumbles through the penthouse speakers. "Nope!" Jack says, popping the P, "this sucks too!"

"What sucks?"

_"I can't get comfortable!"_ Jack's face, blue and staticky, shows up on Rhys's desk ECHO display. "No matter what I do!" 

Jack's been acting weird all day long, and Rhys is a little worried now. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Jack sighs raggedly. "Don't think so." His android turns back on and for a second Jack's speaking through both the penthouse speakers and the robot. "I'm just feelin' like crap, cupcake. No rhyme or reason. And I _can't_ get comfortable no matter what I try." An irritated shake of his head. "Feels like wearin' an outfit that's a size too small and you can't take it off."

"The whole space station is too small?"

Jack's brows slam together. "It's a metaphor, okay? Don't worry. I'll get over it."

-

Rhys is in bed later that night and Jack is tossing and turning beside him. Jack doesn't have to sleep, though he can; he often just settles in for the night, charges his body, surfs the ECHOnet, or even takes catnaps. Now, though, Jack is squirming around like there are bugs under his skin. When Rhys can hear Jack's teeth gritting, he closes his book. Jack's been anxious for a few days, and Rhys has no idea how to help. Jack can't get comfortable, and he's tried everything.

Rhys blinks.

"There's one thing you haven't tried," he says.

"I'm all ears, kiddo," Jack replies, aimless frustration in his voice.

"Well..." Rhys pauses, feeling oddly sheepish. "You could try hanging out in my head for a little bit. You've tried everywhere else. Maybe that'd be comfortable for you." Is that weird? Would Jack even want to be back in Rhys's head? Jack looks shocked for a second and Rhys backpedals. "Nevermind, stupid, right, why would you want to be back in my tiny dumb skull, right? I should--"

"You'd let me back in?" Jack says, cleanly shearing off Rhys's train of thought. Jack sounds wrecked, and Rhys's eyes widen.

"Yeah," he says, "of course I would, Jack."

"After everything? After--you'd still--" Jack recovers fast. "Yeah, 's worth a shot," he says, his normal casual bravado back but there's cracks in it now and Rhys can see down to his core.

"Awesome. One sec." Rhys climbs out of bed and ambles over to his desk for a spare ID drive; Jack whistles loudly at the sight of him and Rhys rolls his eyes, though he's smiling, too. "Think fast," he says, and tosses the drive to Jack.

Jack catches it out of the air. "I'm a computer, babe, all I do is think fast," he says with a smug smirk and a wink. "Don't just throw me in a drawer when I load into this thing, now."

Rhys snorts. "Like you don't have backups of yourself saved all over the goddamn place. Hurry up, I wanna sleep."

Jack slides the drive into the port at the side of his face and immediately the android goes slack against the bed. Rhys waits a few seconds to make sure Jack's completely loaded in before he carefully unplugs the drive and raises it up to his own data port at his temple, clicking it in place.

Instantly Jack appears at his side, blue and glowing and ever so slightly pixelated. He gives a theatrical yawn, stretches.

"Better?" Rhys asks, amused.

"Actually? Yeah," Jack says on a sigh. "Tons better. Don't know why, but I--yeah. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a pain in the ass and I'm not gonna like, stay here forever or anything, but it's--" Jack searches for words. "Comfy?" he finishes lamely. 

"Want my arm?"

"Nah," Jack says, "I'm just gonna go ahead and, y'know. Take a nap."

Rhys can _feel_ that Jack's relaxed--he learned what Jack's different emotions felt like, later on, how to read him. All Jack's nervous energy has dissipated, and--it's kind of nice to have Jack back in his head, in a way. Feels close, intimate in a way that nothing else can be.

"What do you want me to do with your body for now?"

"Anything you want, babe," Jack says with a waggle of his eyebrows. Rhys groans and flops down onto the bed. "Does it count as a threeway if one's incorporeal, one's kinda comatose, and two of the parties are me? Question for the ages, man."

"You're awful," he says decisively, and Jack positively cackles, fondness rolling off him in waves.

"But I'm _so_ good at it," Jack replies, and flickers out of view. Rhys covers himself up and settles in next to Jack's android. It's weird that it's empty, but Rhys can't bring himself to be truly creeped out. Jack's still around--the body isn't dead, just sleeping. Rhys yawns and closes his eyes.

"Night night, babe," Jack says quietly. "And thanks."

"Night, Jack."

 

**Author's Note:**

> epilogue
> 
> "HOLY SHIT! RHYSIE! IT _IS_ ASH PELLETS! LOOK!"
> 
> _"JESUS CHRIST JACK GET AWAY FROM ME"_


End file.
